


Reaching Out for More

by undersail2013



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode: s09e06 Heaven Can't Wait, Fluff and Smut, M/M, fanfiction gap B, not graphic smut, poetic smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-21
Updated: 2013-11-21
Packaged: 2018-01-02 06:12:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1053435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/undersail2013/pseuds/undersail2013
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They decide in the dark to share the bed.  One on either side, an ocean between their two backs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reaching Out for More

They decide in the dark to share the bed. One on either side, an ocean between their two backs. 

A hand reaches across the gulf, finds refuge on an arm, flung hopefully into the abyss.

A grateful sigh. 

A guttural purr.

“C’mere,” one begs, rolling to his back, tucking his arm under the other’s neck, gently tugging.

Wordlessly, the other repositions himself. Curls close, head on his friend’s shoulder. His left arm drapes over his torso, fingers idled over the slight curve of his waist.

The old clock radio ticks over, marks a minute, another.

One caresses the other’s bicep, carelessly.

The other’s hand responds by tracing feather-light spirals and curlicues over his stomach muscles, sending sparks racing through his core. 

One hums, whispers an admonishment. 

The other pulls himself up on his elbow, leans his face low, kisses soft eager lips. Lips that have never kissed a man joined to lips that have, but so long ago, in another body. 

Not this body. Not the body the other so carefully crafted, the body now trembling beneath electric fingertips. This body has ached to feel those same long fingers fumble under his waistband, fondle him just like this, pull soft moans from him and swallow them in his kiss. This body was built to surrender to those hands in the dark.

The hands jerk roughly at the fabric, stripping him of his boxers, then he is swinging him easily over him until he straddles the other’s hips. “Shirt,” he utters, and watches breathless as the shadow above him doffs the thin tee, chucks it into the void. 

They pause a moment in mutual admiration, drinking one another in and savoring the sensation of finally doing the right thing. They have fucked up and failed so many times, but not this. This is good. 

Awestruck, he grasps his elbows, pulls him down, kisses him hard. Their hips find a rhythm. One’s hand wanders under the other’s borrowed nightshirt and wrenches it up out of the way. Skin to skin. As it should be. The other maneuvers so that he can pluck the offending garment from the other’s shoulders, banish it to the same far corner of the dark. 

They stay upright for some minutes, rocking, legs wrapped tight, hands buried in hair, lips on neck and chest and arms and anywhere, everywhere else. A palm slithers between their taut bellies, squeezing, sliding, their two cocks moving in tandem, set to the same slow steady speed.

A voice murmurs, somewhat brokenly, “I want to be inside of you.” 

The hand stutters to a stop. 

He rasps a breath, a soft warm sound. “Okay.” He unfolds his legs, leans the other back against the pillows, grants him a quick kiss on the lips. 

~

“Close your eyes. I’m turning on the light.” The room explodes for a moment as he reaches for his pants, trying not to break contact completely. He fishes out his wallet, retrieves a small foil square, which he almost certainly did not buy when he refueled in Salt Lake City, just in case. He holds it a moment between middle and pointer fingers, like he holds his cigarette, staring at it wonderingly. He smiles, remembering. Brandishes the object before his friend and emphatically he huffs the word, “Protection.”

The other’s eyes go wide and he nods.

“It’s different with guys,” he says, tossing the condom onto the nightstand. “Have to work at it a little.” He brings the other’s hand to his lips, sucks a finger wet, guides it where he wants it. “Just there,” he whispers, gasps, “just like that.” He’s panting as he hooks his own finger into the other’s mouth. “You learn fast, tiger!” 

“You’ve done this before.” 

“In another lifetime,” he breathes. “You’re only my second.”

“And you’re mine.”

“Diff- ah, fuck yes!” he shudders. Recovers from the jolt of pleasure, shakes his head. “Different accounting methods. I meant this. Just guys.”

“Oh.” The other smiles. “Then you’re my first.”

He sighs. “Good.” Withdraws his hand. “Almost ready,” he whispers conspiratorially, smirking. “Hand me the angel blade over there.”

The other casts a glare at him before reaching for the mysterious package. He yelps and almost drops it when he feels a warm mouth close around his shaft. He stiffens everywhere. Watches the curious ceremony in awe: the tearing of the foil, the squeezing of the tip, the unfurling. And an odd dry wetness when the one swallows down the other again, the rubber sheath damping his sensations but not his joy.

He takes the lead, encouraging, guiding, pushing them both hard down an unfamiliar path. The partially sighted leading the blind, but not into the pit, as in the parable. They shudder, stumble, stutter. Utter cries, curses, paeans. The journey is shorter than either would care to admit: when the one falls off the cliff, the other soon follows. The ocean into which they plummet buoys them, enfolds them in warm strong arms, carries them gently to the shore of a long-sought and oft-despaired-of promised land. 

They fall asleep with the light on.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, this is a 9.06 "deleted scene" for Fanfiction Gap B. If anything happened, maybe this is it... 
> 
> Not my first attempt at smut, but the first that I feel is halfway decent... Maybe...


End file.
